A New Spy
by Phantom Lightning
Summary: Alex Rider is Britain's top spy. Now, America has their own piece on the playing board... Wait, no... There goes another one. UPDATE: Now with more murderous Alex.
1. Cody Andrews

Cody Andrews was not an ordinary American teenager.

Well, he was, really. He liked to jerk off by looking at badly photoshopped pictures of blonde women with unnaturally large breasts. He was a virgin who was too nervous to insult or flirt with girls, and spent most of his time wallowing in the cesspools of the internet, where the anonymity made him confident enough to say mildly insulting things on the internet about people.

His father, who worked in a higher branch of the government, didn't know where he had went wrong.

All those lessons about staying clean and keeping his room tidy enough to not severely injure people just flew over the boys head.

Cody's room was a pigsty, and that was being generous. A wide screen plasma TV that had long streaks of pizza grease and unmentionable bodily fluids was mounted on the wall across from the pile of filth that dared to call itself a bed. A brand new Xbox One was connected to the TV. The console was still shiny, but there were some fingerprints and streaks of grease smeared across the other wise flawless surface. A few other high end gaming systems were thrown aside. They might have been in the sock pile.

Also, there was an odd, white oily substance leaking out of the vents.

Surprisingly, only a small portion of the substance was originally from Cody's body.

Although the gaming console was probably a biohazard, the rest of the room made it look like it had been washed in thrice blessed waters, dried with the pope's holiest robes and then blessed by the highest order of Seraphim.

There was a pile of socks with a few absurdly expensive gaming consoles underneath it. However, no robber would dare touch it, as it stunk to the high heavens and were stained with a suspicious white liquid.

Next to it was a bed, covered in crumbs, soda stains, and oils. It was a miracle that anyone could bear to be resting on the monstrosity like Cody was at the moment.

He was using a fresh white sock and staring at a picture of a badly doctored photo on his touch screen laptop that had cost almost $2,000.

The next day, his father died in an abrupt car accident that, strangely enough, no one else seemed to have been involved in, The car was promptly destroyed by a reliable and fast company that was known for getting the job done quickly and cleanly.

Three days later, there was a funeral. It was closed casket, which was fine by everybody. Walter Andrews was an obese man who often made very bad decisions for someone so high up in the government.

Cody locked himself in his room for a day. Everyone thought that he was grieving.

The reality of the situation wasn't so pleasant.

He partied for the entire time, drinking alcohol and watching explicit videos filmed by amateurs.

He passed out after a few hours from trying to drink an entire bottle of beer when it was the first time he'd tried to drink anything.

When his mother discovered traces of vomit in the toilet, she nearly cried. The poor boy must have been hit so hard by the sudden death of his father!

The next day, two men in black suits approached Cody on his way to a fast food restaurant. They passed by him several times before finally coming to the revelation that this was the boy that they were supposed to collect.

They were sitting in a nondescript black car. The model was so generic that the only people who could identify it were people who were obsessed with the models of cars that the government used. Those people tended to be the ones that the government didn't actually care about.

"Are you sure this kid is the right one? I mean, he looks like a typical American teenager with unlimited access to credit card."

"Yes, I'm sure! I mean, I've checked the photos, I've checked the videos, I've checked the files, I've even checked the goddamned bedroom recordings! I am absolutely sure that this is the kid we're looking for."

"I don't know... Maybe we should-"

"Look, just get the kid! I've seen him jerk off enough times to recognize him, and I don't want to see it one more time!"

Cody didn't put up a fight. In fact, he came with them after they spouted out some bullshit about his father. Cody thought that they were lawyers who were giving him a lot of money from his deceased father or something.

* * *

Cody was hiding behind a wooden crate, eyes wide with fright. This was nothing like a video game, and if he died, there wouldn't be any respawns or revenge kills.

This was real life.

He risked a peek at the alleyway and nearly yelped in fear, but managed to keep his mouth shut at the last moment when he remembered that they could probably kill him in an instant.

A blonde woman was walking over the filthy cement. She was wearing a provocative leather outfit and was holding a black whip.

She smirked when she saw the boy's gaping mouth, daring red lipstick outlining the perfect lips. With a perfectly manicured, glossy red nail, she made a 'come hither' movement.

Letting his other head take control, Cody moved out into the open.

The woman cracked her whip, and it was obvious that Cody was now very, very, turned on.

There was a another crack from the whip, but it wasn't the sound of a whip being cracked.

Cody died from a bullet through the brain.

Later that night, a woman peeled off her fake nails and carefully packed away a blond wig, revealing cropped brown hair underneath. She washed off the makeup and hung up the gun disguised as a whip The leather outfit was tossed aside in favour of blue cotton pajamas that were much more modest.

The woman hated dressing up in the outfit. It was cold outside, and the leather was uncomfortably tight, but at least she got to screw with the mind of a defenseless person.

She would never wear it if her mark was armed. Every killer worth their salt knew to never wear the fetish fuel clothing if there was any risk.

After all, life wasn't like a video game, where a fourteen year old could be a spy or something.

* * *

A government employee threw a file to the floor, ignoring the fact that he was in front of his superior.

"Look, I'm sick of this! We'll never have an American Alex Rider. We might as well leave the whole teen spy business behind and train cats instead."

The government official sucked on a butterscotch thoughtfully.

The idea had some merit...

* * *

**A/N: Well, that was fun. This might have another chapter about other countries attempting to train spies, or the American government trying to trains wild cats to report to them. Depends on whether or not there's enough interest to motivate me.**

**v Those things are the times when I started writing and finished writing a fanfic chapter. They're just for personal reference.**

**Started: 5:27 PM, December 28, 2013**

**Ended: 7:50 PM, December 28, 2013**


	2. Katherine Graham

Katherine Graham was not exactly a typical 15 year old girl living in England.

She really wasn't, unlike a certain American teenager.

Katherine could fluently speak Italian and Spanish. She knew karate, but preferred boxing. Her mother worked for MI6, but of course, she didn't know that.

When she was 8 years old, she beat up a classmate named Francis Jacobson for mocking her. He wasn't hospitalised, but he was badly bruised enough for him to never bother her in school again. Another boy who bullied everyone else into calling him Rex (although his name was really Gabriel Wilson) thought that Katherine would be easy to take down.

He was in the hospital for three days and had to get 27 stitches.

Every day, Katherine biked home from school. It took 7 minutes to get from school to her home, where her father would usually greet her with food. About an hour or two later, her mother arrived home in her silver sedan. After getting home, Katherine would then spend about half an hour on the computer, reading a book, or doing anything she had forgotten to do the night before. She would then spend the next hour doing her homework and studying in her room.

Her room was usually tidy, although comfortable.

Katherine had a wooden desk with desktop computer on top. There was usually a book or a few papers lying around on it, and she had a decorative cup for her pencils that her mother had brought back from Egypt a few years ago.

There was a combination lock on one of the desk compartments. No one in Katherine's family wanted to intrude on her privacy, so they didn't mind that it was there.

Katherine's bed had three pillows on it, each one a different colour and texture. The walls of her room were painted sky blue, and on the ceiling, there were glow in the dark stars that she never really bothered to take down. The carpeting was deep blue and comfortable enough to lie down on for a few hours while reading a book. Currently, there was a pillow, blanket, and book on the ground for doing just that.

In the corner of the room, there was an oddly shaped lamp that somewhat resembled a tentacle sprouting flowers if you squinted and turned your head.

The door to her room was painted bright green as a joke that her father never really bother fixing.. The door handle was slightly damaged and scratched, but it worked well and locked correctly.

Katherine did her homework. She read a book.

After a while of doing boring, typical things, she went to eat dinner with her mother, father, and her brother.

That day, her older brother, Jeremy, had brought home his boyfriend, who was not a secret government agent of anything of the like. He was just an ordinary boy who liked Magic: The Gathering, programming, and had a secret love of Fall Out Boy.

The next day, Katherine's mother did not die.

She didn't die on the next day.

Nor the next.

In fact, she didn't die until the ripe age of 74, long after Katherine had become a successful single businesswoman and Jeremy had married the boy he had brought home that night.

Two weeks after Jeremy had brought home his boyfriend, three men in black suits approached Katherine while she was biking home from school.

Using her house key, her years of experience in boxing, and a plank of wood, she knocked them all out and continued on her way home, a few minutes late.

The men reported that the mission was a failure after they got out of the hospital.

A few days later, another man approached her, asking her to come with him.

He ended up being found by a random jogger a few hours later and had to be taken away with an ambulance.

The next time they tried to send someone, the man ended up with a few nasty scars and a broken arm.

After a few more weeks of the madness, they finally decided to tranquilise Katherine.

* * *

She woke up, and the first thing she noticed was that she was wearing unfamiliar clothing.

The next thing she noticed was that her clothes were there. Katherine quickly changed, not wanting to be caught naked on any hidden cameras.

When a woman came to tell her that a 'Mr. Blunt' was waiting, Katherine wasted no time in following, sending glowering looks to anyone in the way. Strangely enough, there was an angry teenage boy. He wasn't glared at.

When they arrived, Katherine sat herself down politely, across from a man who was completely grey.

He opened his mouth to speak.

Katherine punched him in the face, escaping through the door. She then made her way through the bank, knocking out anyone stupid enough to try to block her. The smarter ones stayed out of the way, and the ones who could beat her were all sitting back and enjoying the show.

Katherine went home and had lasagna for dinner that night.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Coming up next is MI6 catching wind of Americans trying to train animals to be spies. Not to be outdone, they train Skittles the Dog to sniff out bombs and stop a new criminal organisation!**

**Last chapter featured a st****ereotypical American who died. This chapter featured a girl from an country I've never visited who punched Alan Blunt in the face. To keep it equal, a later chapter will feature Patriotic Cat: The Cat That Saved America.**

**Yes, I'm serious. Patriotic Cat will save the country, kill international terrorists, and yowl the entire Declaration of Independence.**

**LOLing:**

**I'm glad you enjoyed my story! I'm American too, and I've met plenty of people who can't take a joke. Hoping I don't get any hate for this, but it doesn't really matter, right?**

* * *

**Started: 1:34 PM, 29/12/13**

**Ended: 3:21 PM, 29/12/13**


	3. In the Bank

It was a normal day in the Royal and General Bank. Alex Rider was glaring at a peppermint next to him, a man was being treated for three broken ribs, a dislocated left shoulder, and a torn ligament from a certain teenage girl named Katherine, and the new agents were barking or meowing.

One of their newest agents had gotten his paws on a tin of light tuna, and three others had joined in, hissing and scratching each other. A senior agent had a dead mouse for some reason and was trying to lure away Agent Fluffles, but to no avail.

A more experienced man stood off to the side, sighing. This was once a respected place to work for, but everything had gone downhill when the higher ups somehow got it into their heads that a fourteen year old would be perfect for single handedly foiling some of the largest terrorist plots in the world.

Of course, the teenager was pretty good at what he did. Sure, he would murder everyone in the building if he had the chance, but no one could deny that the boy was good. Maybe if he'd failed the first mission with the Stormbreaker computers, they would have let Rider go, instead of sinking their twisted claws into him.

Then again, if he had failed, he would be dead.

No, everything had gone downhill once the brass thought that recruiting more teenage agents would be a great idea.

There was Katherine, who still regularly sent men to the hospital. At this point, it was more entertainment for the senior agents, rather than an actual mission. Some smarter agents actually went out with her for lunch every time they were sent on the 'mission'. Katherine was a nice girl, and of course, there was a mutual desire to get one over Blunt and Jones.

Then the Americans decided to join in, and then the cats happened…

The only half decent intelligence agency left was Scorpia, and even then, it just wasn't the same, not after a fourteen year old had ruined their plans twice.

But there was-

The man was knocked out in the middle of his thoughts, Alex Rider standing above him with a vindictive smile on his face. Somehow, he'd stolen a pen from an office and sharpened it, leading to a very brittle and sharp weapon, which could be stabbed into a joint or organ cavity, where the shard would then be able to be jostled around and cause further damage.

Yet another trained man working for an intelligence agency was placed into intensive care due to an angry teenager.

They just didn't make them like they used to...

* * *

Nexus the cat was a rather ordinary cat. He was not special in any way. He was a tuxedo cat and was a year and a half old. He had been neutered, had had his shots, and enjoyed eating fish. He was bought from a breeder and given to a three year old girl when he was only a kitten, and was put in an animal shelter after a few months.

Which, in the twisted minds of MI6's higher ups, meant the cat would be a perfect nonhuman spy for the government.

Currently, there was a collar with a sophisticated tracking device with a high definition camera and state of the art software.

That very collar was lying in some ditch somewhere, while Nexus was being petted by the high ranking Scorpia official that Nexus was supposed to have been spying on.

But here, there was plenty of fish, constant attention, and best of all, small furry animals to torture until death.

What more could a cat want?

Meanwhile, the aforementioned high ranking Scorpia official smiled as she watched the progress of her newest project.

Nexus the cat might actually have a use...

The woman laughed in evil delight, all the while stroking the cat with claw like fingers and glossy red nails.

* * *

Alex Rider had somehow gotten his hands on a candy cane that had been sharpened to a deadly point and a few more pens. No one knew how he had gotten them, and more importantly, who kept those dangerous objects in their offices. Well, the candy canes were probably from Mrs. Jones, who had switched the peppermints in favour of something more festive, but who in the world was daft enough to actually keep pens in a bank?

Alex was such a menace that the only acceptable writing instruments were chalk, crayons, and nontoxic paints. Pens were a prized commodity, but were too dangerous to keep around, for fear of Alex weaponising them.

Smithers didn't help at all, and occasionally joined in on the madness.

Alex regularly gave him offerings of expensive pens, gift baskets, human limbs, and mugs of very well made tea.

In return, Smithers would give him more toys, but nothing too dangerous, just silly gimmicks that made everything more fun.

The only time that the people who worked in the office had any respite was when they went home after a long day of fighting for their life, but even in the comfort of their own home, they occasionally saw a dark blur leaping from shadow to shadow out of the corner of their eye, reminding them to come to work the next day or else.

In that manner, Alex Rider managed to keep the building in a state of organised chaos.

People came to work every day, did paperwork, organised files, battled for their lives, avoided dogs, and stayed in the hospital if they didn't do their paperwork on time.

Blunt and Jones did nothing about it because the paperwork got done (although it was in crayon), their field agents were kept on their toes, and Alex was kept happy.

Also, the feral dogs wouldn't bite them.

* * *

**A/N: Well, that was fun! Alex has been terrorising the Bank and one of MI6's agents has turned traitor. Coming up soon is Jeremy's wedding, more cats, and Patriotic Cat! Not necessarily in that order, though.**

**I promise that this won't be the last of the spy animals, and there will be more focus on them. Reviews would be appreciated!**

* * *

**Started: 1:36 PM, 30/12/13**

**Ended: 4:43 PM, 30/12/13**


End file.
